


A Horse is a Horse (Of Course, Of Course)

by NeoVenus22



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-15
Updated: 2011-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-20 10:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoVenus22/pseuds/NeoVenus22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>His brain isn't exactly working when Leslie mentions something about Sebastian and he says, stupidly, "Who?"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Horse is a Horse (Of Course, Of Course)

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Through the end of season 3.

Forgive him, Lord, for he knows not what the hell he does.

It's two-thirty in the morning, the sort of hours Ben has been keeping since he and Leslie have started dating, and he is very much not awake. He is conscious, and he wants so desperately to sleep, but Leslie has been chattering at him for the past who-knows-how-long about her new idea for a day camp, and she's really cute when she gets excited. So he's tired, and treading the fine line (that often comes up when dating someone as dedicated as Leslie) between coworker and boyfriend. And did he mention how tired he is?

So his brain isn't exactly working when Leslie mentions something about Sebastian and he says, stupidly, "Who?"

Leslie's mouth drops open. Then her eyes narrow. And he tries to piece together the last thing he remembers her saying to him, and realize she was talking about _Li'l Sebastian_ , that damn miniature horse-pony-whatever everyone loves for no apparent reason whatsoever.

Shit.

"Right, right, Li'l Sebastian," he says, trying to cover with a smile and a yawn. Just because Leslie seemingly never gets exhausted doesn't mean he can't try to play that card himself. "Sorry."

"' _Who_?'" she says, stepping right into indignation as though he hadn't explained and apologized for his minor foul. "Li'l Sebastian is a _treasure_ , Ben, and an _icon_ , and he's... and he's..."

"Dead?" he supplies, not thinking again, because _he cannot help himself_.

There's no really accurate way to describe Leslie's face after that, the closest he can come is to say it collapses. Ben then finds himself in the time-honored position of having a girl he really cares about being upset over something he does not care about at all. It is dangerous ground to tread, knowing there is quicksand but not knowing where or how deep or how long it'll take him to escape or if anyone will be there to helpfully hand him a rope.

"He was a hero," he says, almost choking on the word, feeling a little dirty for pandering, because it was a _small horse_ who had diabetes and bad gas. One could say the same thing about Ben's grandfather, but there won't be a memorial torch when _he_ dies. "He touched a lot of lives."

"I just don't think you care at all about Li'l Sebastian," she says, as though she's been carrying this suspicion awhile, her voice getting fast and high.

Ben has to derail this train. "Of course I care! Leslie, I care." He does not care. "I worked on the memorial, didn't I? I miss Li'l Sebastian, too. More, maybe, since our time together was so short." Okay, now he's aware he might be laying it on a little thick. Even if he is, though, Leslie looks like she might be feeling a tiny bit better, so he feels like he accomplished something.

"I'm just tired," he says, the standby, because he _is_ tired, dammit. "And you're tired, too," possibly a stretch, "and we're both just emotional. It's been a rough couple of weeks. Long."

At this, Leslie's gaze drops to her lap quickly. "You're right," she says. Ben feels something tug at a corner of his brain: it was too fast, too agreeable. He should not be complaining.

"Let's go to bed," he suggests, keeping his face straight but internally begging that she'll agree. "We can talk about this in the morning and you can tell me all about Li'l Sebastian and all he meant to the community." Ben suspects he might regret that offer later. But he's pretty sure he can handle it if there's sleep behind him and coffee in him. Dating Leslie is pretty wonderful, ninety-nine percent of the time, but the rest of the time it's a lack of sleep (not in the fun way) and trying to not get caught and subsequently fired from a job he was good at and actually liked. "C'mon, Leslie. Bed? Maybe things will seem better in the morning."

She gives him a long sideways look.

"Please?" he tries, a last, desperate attempt, because his blurry vision is filling with the possible dream of soft pillows, a warm blanket, and a half-dressed Leslie (he knows he is well past the option of an undressed Leslie, unfortunately).

But then he realizes that she's not actually looking at _him_ , and that she's got the expression that he absolutely loves and occasionally fears. She has an idea. "What he means to the community," she echoes distractedly, then her gaze focuses on him and he's in laser sights. "Ben, you've just given me a great idea for the one-year memorial anniversary of Li'l Sebastian's death." She pulls a legal pad off of her kitchen counter, which in the Knope house seems like a perfectly normal location, and starts to scribble on it. Leslie casts him a brief, magically beautiful and slightly terrifying grin. "And you're going to help."

A lot of thoughts run through Ben's tired brain at that moment. Firstly, he is absolutely not going to get any sleep tonight. This will be difficult to explain to Chris later. Then it occurs to him he is going to continue to be tied to that beloved horse, long after its unfortunate but wholly over-dramatized death. He just _does not get_ why everyone loves it so freaking much around here.

He's so focused on these two immediate problems that it takes him a minute to process the full implication of what Leslie actually said. She wanted him to help on the first-year anniversary of a horse that only died a few weeks ago. She thinks, hopes, wants him to be around in a year. With her.

The smile comes across his face so quickly he needs to hide it, lest she think he's not taking the project seriously. He gets up and makes a pot of coffee. They won't be going to bed, he won't be sleeping, but suddenly that doesn't seem so bad.


End file.
